


Night

by Gildedmuse



Series: 11 Painful Partings [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Challenge Response, Character Study, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedmuse/pseuds/Gildedmuse
Summary: Zoe knows the crew worries but she swears, it really only really hurt at night





	Night

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted to LJ in 2009 as part of an attempt to do a "12 Days Of Fandom" challenge. The first part was 12 Drunken Drabbles. Each of the 11 story is a different fandom but has a similar theme: Painful Partings]

**Night**

  
Easiest to just tell 'em it's really only hard at night.  
  
Lying don’t sit right with Zoe unless there's some need for it, and it seems to her right now there's plenty of need. Need to keep Kaylee from tearing up every time she looks at Zoe with those big sweet eyes of hers. Need to stop the good doctor trying desperately to talk to her in a way she's sure he must think offers up comfort. Plenty of need seeing as even Jayne’s stuck to avoiding her, slinking around in the back as he don’t have any idea what to do with a grieving woman but sex her or leave her be.  
  
So far he's been at least cleve enough to stick to the latter.  
  
Besides, there’s some truth in it making it easier to keep on saying everytime someone goes and tries bringing it up.

She's getting by, really. It’s only hard at night.

Hard when the whole ship's gone dark, save flickering from the bridge twinkling like stars across the control panel. She’ll catch herself near smiling, memories of her husband playing with all those little blinking lights, yawning so big and wide and making a show of it so Zoe’d come and drag him to bed.  
  
Under the covers Wash would caress her like she was some kind of precious treasure. He'd handle her like she was an unbreakable goddess. He'd hold her like she was his strength. He’d whisper dirty things that made Zoe purr, and playful stories that got her laughing no matter the state of the day.

Most men she'd been with, they'd treat her like a core made China doll, some fragile little thing putting up a tough act like some sort of kid playing pretend. Well, that is until they see her punch a man hard enough he has to spit out his own teeth. That changed their minds damn quick. After that, she be nothing more than a hard ass solider with no softness to her.

Wash, he knew where Zoe stood. She's no girl in need of rescuing and she's no heartless killer who only ever lays a hand on a person if she planned to see them dead. She never saw a need to be only one or the other even if plenty of folks rather she chose. But never Wash. When he would look at her she saw herself clear as anything in his eyes, and she’s just Zoe, complex and simple.

  
These days when she looks to the other side of the bed, there's nothing but the grey metal haul of Serenity. No more outrageous stories or gentle pillow talk, only the hum of engines  and the heavy boot steps of her captain. Alone in this room that is meant to be theirs, honest it does hurt more. Hurts in a kind of way worse than a bullet shot. Hurts enough to leave Zoe feeling like a lost little girl and so cold you'd think there was no ship between her and the black. Times are, she doesn’t even feel like Zoe anymore.  
  
Of course, Zoe's seen war. She knows the just when things hurt the most, that's when breaking will get you killed. It's nothing to put on a brave face. That’s what her captain needs of her, what the crew needs. Still, she can't help missing that woman. The one who spent her nights holding onto the man she loved.  
  
Now Zoe’s got nothing to hold onto, and maybe she doesn’t need it. She’s strong enough, Wash would tell her, more than strong enough for the both of them. But at night, finding herself alone, it hurts more than it should.  
  
She tells them it only hurts at night, because when everything is settled and silent that’s when she realizes just how much she misses that man’s voice. She remembers the first time she'd heard him laugh, thinking he sounded like an overgrown child and how gorram annoying that laugh was to hear. It grated on her nerves, made her roll her eyes because no grown man should laugh that way. She still thinks that, too, only now she’s thankful for it. That Wash never grew out of that laugh.  
  
At night the quiet leaves her aching. He isn’t there to fill it and Zoe don’t have anything to say that needs saying, so she lies there in their bed and listens for him. Some echo of him trying to sneak into the bedroom after a night of piloting, both of them knowing full and well he never could crawl into bed without waking her up, sometimes on accident and sometimes just for fun. She never took annoyance to either, just snuggled into his warmth with an ear pressed to his beating heart.  
  
Zoe tells them it only hurts at night, and for the most part that is a truth. Out here in the black, the sun don’t exactly shine down on them, and the space around them stays still and quiet. Way out here in the black, it’s always night, and Zoe is always hurting. 


End file.
